Cult of the Sky Dragon: the Slaying
by Robert Ranting
Summary: 5-6 years before the series, a Sky Dragon destroys an Asturian village. With a promotion to Knight Caeli on the line, who will answer the call to slay the beast?
1. The Slaying: Part 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Tenkuu no Escaflowne, or any of the characters, events, or objects therein, and this fanfiction is totally for non-profit enjoyment of myself and other fans of the series. No money is made from this writing, and as such, no money can be made by suing me. Maketto is my own character, albeit a minor one, and he belongs solely to me and anyone who asks to use him (though I can't think of why anyone would)  
  
Author's Note: This story is a prequel to the series taking place approximately 5-6 years before the events of Tenkuu no Escaflowne (Gaea timeline). It is the first part of the first fanfic in the Cult of the Sky Dragon series, which deals primarily with Allen Schezar, Gaddes, and other supporting characters, so bear with me, Van and Hitomi fans! Expect everything here to lead into bigger and better stories to come. Also, for those who don't know, a costa is the Gaean equivalent to a meter or yard.  
  
  
Escaflowne  
Cult of the Sky Dragon  
The Slaying Part One  
  
A lone villager strode down the forest path, oblivious to the weight on his shoulders. A long pole rested across his back, and two water-filled buckets swung idly on its ends to the rhythm of his stride. He whistled a verse of a very old tune as he walked, enjoying the moment of solitude.  
  
His gaze moved about as he walked, taking in the sights of the woods. Great trees which had stood since time began lined the path, and lesser forms of flora cluttered about their trunks. Birds sang cheerily from their perches, offering a counter melody to the villager's tune, and the skittering of small animals at his approach added further to the forest rhythm.  
  
The villager briefly considered increasing his gait, as it seemed that he had been gone for quite some time, but he shrugged the notion off. It was not a crime for one to dawdle in the woods. As a point of fact, he was probably still making better time than some of the young people, who frequently snuck out to the woods to meet their lovers under the pretense of fetching water from the well. No, it was not a crime to dawdle, and he felt assured in his decision to prolong the pleasant journey for as long as possible.  
  
As he continued on his journey home, another, unidentifiable noise caught his attention. He stopped in his tracks, tilting his head to the side to better pick up on the faint sound. It was a distant, beating sound, like some far off carpet being pounded clean of dust, only much louder.  
  
The villager's brow furrowed, and he squinted his dark eyes in consternation. The beating sound was oddly familiar, though he was sure that he hadn't heard it before. He seemed to recall another man's description of it. He couldn't place it exactly, but he was confident that it would come to him in time. Frowning slightly, he resumed his walk.  
  
The beating sound persisted, growing louder with each note, and soon overpowered the other sounds of the forest. With an eerie suddenness, the birds ceased their chirping. The villager made note of this, and a feeling of disconcertion grew within him. The drunken rambling of every soldier and vagabond he had ever heard played in his mind, especially those concerning the beasts of Gaea's far-flung corners. His mind was on the right track to identifying the sound, but he need not have troubled himself any further.  
  
A black shadow overtook the forest, and the wind seemed to be gusting with the beats of the approaching sound. With horror, he realized the sound's identity just as it came down at him.  
  
The Great trees which had stood since time began seemed to part their branches to allow a gigantic shape to descend. The villager's jaw went slack and his eyes widened to the size of tea saucers as he saw the gigantic wings flapping overhead, a deafening drum beat accompanying their rise and fall. The serpentine form hovered above him for a second, then craned its prodigious neck down to peer at him. The villager dropped the pole, sending the water buckets spilling onto the dirt path around him as he returned the creature's gaze.  
  
The angular head of the Sky Dragon hung suspended from its neck little over two costa above the hapless man, its hot breath blowing his hair like a sinister breeze. It's snake-like, slitted red eyes squinted at him, studying him. The villager, firmly in the grip of shock, felt a warmth spreading in his pants as he noticed this.  
  
Suddenly, the adrenaline flowing through his blood reached his legs, and a sudden impulse to flee like a frightened rabbit came over him. He turned, slipping in the mud-puddle he had inadvertently created by dropping the water seconds before. The Dragon tilted it's head to the side, a curiously dog-like motion that seemed utterly incongruous with the reptile. It calmly watched, beating its massive wings, as the villager scrambled up from the muck and ran down the path away from it.  
  
Unfortunately for the panic-stricken villager, this triggered a hunting instinct in the dragon which compelled it to give chase. The man yelled at the top of his lungs as he pumped his legs, trying to reach his top speed at the first leg of the run in a vain effort to escape. As if in answer to his terrified outburst, the dragon roared, shaking the whole area to the core. The villager tried desperately to increase his pace as he heard the rhythmic beat of the monster's wings in hot pursuit. Hot air, carried over the costa between them by the creature's massive lungs, pressed his tunic to his back and evaporated the cold sweat running down his neck, an ever-present reminder of what the dragon's breath was famous for.  
  
The Villager tried his best to keep ahead of the monster, and he made every effort his beleaguered brain could come up with to put large trees between him and the beast. He kept this up for several minutes, making a surprisingly good show for the dragon, which was, if anything. only amused by its prey's attempted escape.  
  
Hope surged in the man's heart as he looked ahead, spying the end of the forest path and the beginning of the plain. Only a few more costa and he would be home free, within sight of the high walls of his village. What he failed to realize, however, was that once he was clear of the trees, there would be nothing standing between him and the predator on his tail.  
  
He burst out of the tree-line, screaming at the top of his lungs and waving his arms like a mad-man. Sentries posted at the village gate were drawn to the sound, and saw immediately what the problem was. Both look-outs wore expressions similar to the villager's upon seeing the massive Sky Dragon gliding toward them. Of course, who wouldn't be considering the animal's size and reputation?  
  
They sounded the alarm, a brass gong being struck by a hammer, spurring the local military to action. Footmen grabbed their swords and pikes as they rushed from the barracks, believing themselves ready to take on any threat. Ballistae crews scurried to their posts, loading their massive weapons and rolling them up ramps to the firing platforms on the inner walls of the village. The troops, no matter how confident they were in their own abilities, experienced a wave of fear as they too saw the threat.  
  
The villager was about five costa away from the gate, almost to safety. If he was lucky, he would reach it in mere seconds. Unfortunately for him, today wasn't his lucky day.  
  
The Sky Dragon had grown tired of chasing the pathetic man, and was ready to dispose of him. It reared back its long neck, the glistening white scales shining in the sun like a iridescent serpent about to strike. With a snap of its powerful neck muscles, the head struck forward and down at the man, not unlike the aforementioned snake, but it did not need to bite him. A reddish glow had accumulated in two grey sacs on its underbelly, and now that glow manifested itself as a brilliant flame being expelled from the beast's toothy maw.   
  
The villager screamed one last time as his clothes were set afire, and he fell to the dirt. As the flesh melted away from his body, he thought morbidly that he had been wrong to dawdle in the woods. However, this realization, like most, was far too late in coming.  
  
The soldiers witnessed the poor citizen's demise, and shared looks of horror at the sight. They were all thinking the same thing: "How do we fight something like that?"  
  
Their fears were only slightly allayed by an echoing footstep approaching them from behind. Captain Ezeem, their commander, had come to the front lines, "wearing" a navy blue melef armor suit. The melef was a three costa tall, mechanized armor suit, which was controlled via the pilots movement of mechanisms inside, including an intricate system of pulleys and primitive hydraulics. The pilot's hands and feet rested in the elbow and knee joints respectively, thus increasing his own personal mass and armor while allowing the melef to move in a more human fashion. It was an ingenious marvel of technology, made possible only by the use of Energists, the very same things which allowed their bestial foe to use its breath weapon.  
  
"Load ballistae!" The Captain ordered, raising his melef's right arm and gesturing toward the dragon with the sword it held.  
  
The crews complied, pulling back the band of the giant bow and pushing a two costa long pole tipped with a wicked, metal arrowhead into the firing slot. Five soldiers pushed each wheel-mounted weapon into position, and readied them to fire on the approaching dragon. They watched intently as the white reptile gracefully flew toward them, seemingly more curious than threatening.   
  
As it came into range, the Captain bellowed "FIRE!" In accordance, the ballistae were fired, hurling three giant arrows at the creature. One missed completely, having been hastily aimed, while the other two were narrowly avoided by the agile sky dragon.   
  
No longer curious, the angry dragon sped up, charging the village like an opponent. It let out a piercing shriek that forced the soldiers to duck and cover their ears as it zoomed over the outer wall just above their heads. The furious beast doubled back, swooping down at the terrified men, an eerie red glow emanating from its chest. The dragon's fiery breath poured forth, sweeping the ballistae firing platform. The formidable weaponry erupted like so much kindling, taking the firing crews with it. One man, a new recruit, had only his clothes set aflame, but in his panic, he took a dive from the platform, meeting his end on the ground below.  
  
The dragon however, was not finished. Taking another pass, it fired at the assembled troops, scattering or incinerating the helpless defenders. As the camp fell into a crazed frenzy Captain Ezeem stepped forward with his melef's sword at the ready, confident that his armor would protect him from his foe's breath. "Come on, you Accursed Snake!" he shouted in challenge. "Come down and fight like a man!"  
  
The dragon, understanding the intent if not the words, rushed down at the melef. It lunged at the melef's face plate, snapping its fang-lined jaws close enough to the pilot's face to send him stumbling back. As he swung the sword-arm up, he found that the dragon was far more intelligent than he had given it credit for. Twisting to the side, it avoided the strike, and then reached out with its own limbs to grasp onto the arm. With a beat of its wings, the dragon made for the sky.   
  
Unfortunately, the melef was too heavy to lift, and the stress of the weight ripped the arm off in the reptile's grip. More is the pity, it took Captain Ezeem's arm with it. As the commander screamed in agony, he lost control of the melef, sending it crashing to the dirt. The force of impact knocked the recent amputee out cold, leaving him to bleed to death slowly on the battlefield.  
  
The ballistae, troops, and melef attended to, the spiteful dragon began to burn the village, sending dozens of innocent women and children scurrying for their lives. Flames crackled and burned, babies cried out, and the stench of blood and smoke overwhelmed the village. In moments, the peaceful border village had been reduced to cinders. Satisfied with the destruction, the sky dragon roared in triumph before taking to the skies and flying off to the mountains in the west.  
  
* * *  
  
Maketto stood outside the massive blue and white doors that lead into the throneroom, breathing deeply in an effort to calm himself. He had a message to deliver to King Aston, and he did not intend to be a nervous wreck when he did so. He brushed a hand over his tunic's front, hoping that he had nothing stuck to the blue fabric which would ruin his appearance. First impressions were everything, and never more so than when speaking to the King of one's country.  
  
He straightened his collar, pulled down on the hem of his tunic, and strode toward the massive doors with a front of confidence. A pair of blue-and-white uniformed guards opened the doors for him, giving him entrance to the royal chamber.  
  
The throneroom was over a hundred costa long, with high, vaulted ceilings supported by white columns. Royal blue banners and decorations hung from the walls and columns, keeping with the traditional Asturian color scheme. At the far end of the chamber there was a dais upon which the throne rested, and the King sat slouching slightly in it. The court members stood riveted in Maketto's direction, looking at him from the shadowed areas between the columns.  
  
A cold sweat ran down his back, making Maketto feel even more uncomfortable in the blue formal garb. With a practiced, automatic gait, he strode to within a short distance from the dais, and then reverently sank to his knees and bowed his head.  
  
After a moment, King Aston, an aging man with a massive belly and small brown mustachios, acknowledged him. "Maketto de Gare, what news do you bring?"  
  
"Bad news, your majesty" Maketto stated, glad for once that he did not have the right to look directly at the king at this distance. "I must report to you that the village of Sayta on the Fanelian border has been destroyed."  
  
King Aston sat up straighter in surprise. "How could this happen?"  
  
Maketto cleared his throat. "Reports say that a Sky Dragon attacked, flying over the outer wall and burning the city from the air. When military units responded to the threat, they too were set upon and killed. Even the local commander and his melef were destroyed in short order."  
  
Aston's eyes widened as he settled back in his throne. A murmur of surprised   
chatter worked through the court, as the shocked nobles expressed their take on the report. "Maketto de Gare, are you quite sure that this is the case?"  
  
"Yes, sire." Maketto affirmed. "All of the survivors testify that this was the case."  
  
"Has anyone determined the whereabouts of this Sky Dragon's lair?" The country's ruler asked.  
  
"No, your majesty. However, we assume that it is somewhere in the mountains on the Fanelian side of the border." The messenger replied, staring down at the indigo carpet and wishing that it were someone else who had to deliver the message.  
  
"Milord!" Meiden Fassa, the king's most trusted advisor stepped forward from the crowd of nobles to address him. "We cannot allow this creature to continue living. I humbly suggest that we take immediate measures to eliminate it."  
  
"And what would you suggest?" Aston's eyebrow arched in askance. "This dragon is said to have appeared out of nowhere and slaughtered an entire battalion of our troops, including a melef, in mere moments. I find it unlikely that another such effort would prevail."  
  
Meiden seemed unfazed by this. "I understand, milord, but I would like to point out to his majesty that there were no guymelefs present. A lone melef is not nearly a match for such a creature, but several guymelefs would be more than adequate to deal with it."  
  
Aston repositioned his bulk in order to face his counsel. "Guymelefs are not common in Asturia. I must ask where you would find even one, let alone a man brave enough to pilot it against such a formidable foe."  
  
The advisor's lips curved into a smug grin. "I happen to have my own Guymelef at the ready. It is only the pilot that I require. If sufficient reward were offered, many would jump at the opportunity."  
  
Aston snorted. "You are referring to bounty hunters?"  
  
Meiden pursed his lips. "No, I doubt that they have the skill. However...I believe that there is currently a position open in the Knights Caeli. Perhaps if we were to offer that position to the knight who slays the beast, it would inspire the finest in our military to step forward."  
  
The King pondered this for a moment. "A wise judgement, Meiden. I shall take your suggestion into consideration. For the time being, I suggest that we shelve the matter." Returning his attention to Maketto, who was still gazing intently at the indigo carpet, he gestured with his hand for him to leave.   
  
It took a second for the messenger to realize that he had been dismissed, but he stood reverently, and turning smartly on his heel, he strode out of the throneroom. Happy to have survived the experience of delivering such bad news to the king, he left the room in bad need of a soothing glass of vinor.  
  
* * *  
  
Maketto entered the Garusan Restaurant and Tavern with frayed nerves ready for a dose of soothing alcohol. He made his way through the tables filled with dining or drinking patrons to the bar, and choosing a stool, sat down. He gestured to the barkeep, who promptly came over to the messenger. "What can I get for you, sir?"  
  
"A glass of your best vinor" Maketto ordered.  
  
"Right away." the barkeep complied, going into the back room to find the appropriate bottle.  
  
As he waited, Maketto took in the other customers with mild curiosity. An elderly man and woman sat at one table, dining on roast rabbit. A trio of young men sat at another table, eyeing the waitresses approvingly, and getting drunk off cheap booze they had doubtlessly bought with whatever little cash they had left after the work week. Most prominent though, were the four soldiers who occupied the far corner.   
  
One of them was a giant, over two costa tall and almost as broad as a potato barrel. Another was a tiny, scrawny weakling who wore a red bandana around his head. A third was a lanky, bald man with a scar down his pate. The fourth, apparently the leader of the group was a muscular fellow of about average height with coal black hair. Together, they were a motley crew, but they somehow seemed to have a certain similarity about them.   
  
He watched as the bandana wearer carefully aimed a dart at a target on the wall about ten feet away. One eye closed, and his tongue sticking out the side, he appeared rather odd. Finally, he released the dart, which shot across the distance and hit the edge of the bull's-eye. "Hah!" he small man laughed in triumph. "Try and beat that one, Ort!"  
  
The bald man with the scar stepped forward, pulling a small dagger from his belt. With a flick of his wrist, he threw the knife at the board, striking exactly at the center of the bull's-eye. "Done" Ort said smugly as he sat back down to his beer.  
  
The bandana wearer stared accusingly at the knife embedded in the dart board. "You can't do that! The game's called darts for a reason, Ort! No fair throwing knives!"  
  
"Calm down, Reeden." the muscular one with the black hair warned. "If Ort had used a dart, he still would have beaten you."  
  
"But Gaddes!" Reeden protested childishly.  
  
"You lost, pal. Plain and simple." Gaddes stated. "No use getting worked up over it."  
  
"Yeah, Reeden." The giant added. "Go get yourself a drink and calm down, eh?"  
  
The scrawny man sighed miserably. "Okay...fine."   
  
As he walked to the bar, he heard the giant call out."And hey! See if your ma's got any of that pie left!"  
  
"Ask her yourself, Kio, you overgrown ape!" Reeden shouted back.  
  
  
"Ape?!" Kio repeated indignantly, rising from his seat. "You insulting me, little man?"  
  
Gaddes sighed, gazing into his stein for answers before intervening. "Would you bums quit picking on one another?!" he shouted. "I've seen more maturity in cat-children!"  
  
"No one ever said Reeden or Kio was mature." A feminine voice stated. The men looked up to see Mrs. Garusan, Reeden's mother and owner of the Tavern, carrying a tray topped with a piece of pie and a flask of beer. "Don't be so hard on the boys, Gaddes."  
  
Gaddes flushed at the sight of the plump little woman. "Uh...sorry ma'am."  
  
"It's all right." She stated as she placed the pie plate before Kio, who immediately dug in. "I know how annoying Reeden can be, I raised him, remember?"  
  
"Mah-am!" Reeden wailed like an embarrassed teenager.  
  
Mrs. Garusan smiled at her son wanly as she handed her son a beer. "Just kidding, dear."  
  
"Oh...fine." The little man put aside his complaints, taking a sip of the beer as his mother returned to the back of the restaurant.  
  
Maketto chuckled to himself, finding the scene to be rather humorous after the day he had been having. He picked up his glass of vinor, sipping the pink liquor slowly, as was the only way to drink it. After the audience with the king, he had been hard pressed to keep his nerves, and even harder to keep the message to himself. Technically, all messages for the king were never to be repeated or spoken of to anyone else, that was the cardinal rule of messenger-hood. However, the news of the Sky Dragon attack was too important to keep secret. Especially since the nobles would have doubtlessly spread the news to others outside the court by now.   
  
With a mental shrug, the messenger decided to join the soldiers and tell them about it. After all, hadn't Meiden wanted a pilot to come forward? How could one hope to do that if none of the willing men knew of the opportunity? Assured that he would be doing no harm, he walked over to the table with a bit of confidence.  
  
"Would you gentlemen mind if I joined you?" the messenger asked, a little too polite considering the nature of the "gentlemen" in question.  
  
The four looked up at him with strange expressions. "Uh...sure." Gaddes replied. "Pull up a chair."  
  
He complied, lifting a chair from the next table over and sitting it between Gaddes and Reeden. "Thanks. By the way, I'm Maketto."  
  
The four nodded and introduced themselves in return. "What brings you to our little corner of the Tavern?" Reeden asked.  
  
"Well..." Maketto began slowly. "I have heard some news that I thought you four might be interested in hearing."  
  
"What kinda news?" Gaddes asked, raising a coal-black eyebrow.  
  
"You ever heard of a village called Sayta? It's on the Fanelian border."  
  
The four shook their heads.  
  
Maketto sighed. "I thought as much. Oh well, it doesn't matter. At any rate...several days ago, that village was destroyed...and you'll never guess by what!"  
  
"You're right, what did it?" Kio urged him to continue.  
  
"A Sky Dragon." Maketto stated, smiling at the expressions on the soldiers' faces.  
  
"A Sky Dragon?! But those things are peaceful, aren't they?" Reeden asked.  
  
"Yeah, that's what I heard. Why would it attack a village?" Kio added.  
  
Maketto played it cool, enjoying the attention. It was not often that a lowly messenger was the center of attention. "I can' t really say why, but I can tell you that the thing killed a whole battalion of footsoldiers, set fire to three ballistae, and ripped the arm off a melef and its pilot before flaming the village itself."  
  
"That's horrible!" Kio observed.  
  
"True."  
  
"What's being done about it?" Gaddes demanded, his expression noticeably darkened.  
  
"Well..." Maketto once again began in a way meant to generate interest. "The King hasn't decided yet. But, I hear that Meiden has a guymelef ready to slay the thing, he just needs a pilot."  
  
"It'd have to be someone brave, strong, and smart enough to deal with the thing." Reeden noted. "That, or some one big, dumb and stupid enough. Hey! Kio, why don't you do it!"  
  
"Hey!" Kio said indignantly.  
  
"What, you chicken?" The smaller man snickered.  
  
"Nah...I just don't wanna fight a dragon is all. I'd rather beat a human opponent." The giant said in his defense.  
  
"Well then..." Reeden thought. "If Kio won't do it...and since Ort and I are too small to pilot a melef...what about you, Gaddes?"  
  
Gaddes nearly spit out his beer. "Me?"  
  
"Sure!" the little man smiled. "You're one of the best swordsmen I know, I'm sure you're more than a match for any dumb flying lizard, especially if you've got a big guymelef to work with!"  
  
"I dunno...The thing's already killed so many others...I don't think I'm qualified." Gaddes replied with a mix of modesty and reluctance.  
  
"I think you'd do well too." Kio added. "And It's rare that Reeden and I agree on anything!"  
  
Maketto grinned as he watched Gaddes squirm under the glare of his subordinates. "That's two votes of confidence. Ort, what about you?"  
  
The bald man stared at the light reflecting off his dagger with a disinterested look. "Why not?"  
  
"That's three." Maketto grinned smugly.  
  
"Well..." Gaddes borrowed the messenger's technique. "I suppose I could apply for the job...I mean...I doubt that I'd be the only person qualified. Hey...was there a reward attached to this thing?"  
  
Maketto's smile broadened. "Yes...I believe so. Word has it that whoever slays the Sky Dragon will be promoted to fill in the empty spot in the Knights Caeli."  
  
Kio whistled in surprise. "That's one heck of a reward."  
  
"Indeed. So, what do you say Gaddes, you willing to take the risk for such a boost in rank?" The messenger and all three other soldiers watched him intently.  
  
Gaddes sighed, weighing his options. Downing the last bit of beer from his stein, he struck it down on the table to punctuate his answer. "Sure. Why the hell not?  
  
* * *  
  
Marlene Aston, eldest of Asturia's princesses, sat at her vanity, combing her long blonde hair with a pearl-incrusted brush. She closed her eyes, enjoying the moment of calm. The court had been wild with rumors regarding the Sky Dragon attack, and many of them had reached her. So many stories of death and destruction wrought by what was normally considered a peaceful animal disturbed the young princess, and she was glad to at last be away from the talk of it.   
  
The silent moment was broken by a soft, gentle sound from outside of her room. She opened her eyes, put the brush down on the vanity's white lacquered surface, and stood to investigate. Her long legs carried her elegant form to the doors leading from her room to the veranda, where she believed the sound was coming from. Pushing aside the white-lace and pink silk of the curtains, she peered into the twilight outside.   
  
Sitting on the veranda's railing was a white owl, hooting in a gentle, soothing tone. She smiled at the sight. The presence of this bird indicated that its owner could not be far off. Unlocking the doors, she stepped onto the veranda. "Good evening, Natal" she addressed the white bird in a sweet voice. "Where is your master hm?"  
  
The owl tilted its head at her, its large yellow eyes gazing at her thoughtfully. With a suddenness, the bird raised its wings and dived from the railing, gliding to the ground two stories below. Marlene went to the veranda's edge, and watched as the owl landed on the outstretched right arm of an elegantly dressed young man of about sixteen.  
  
Marlene's smile widened as her eyes met her beloved's from across the distance. "Allen Schezar!" She spoke his name with adoration. "What brings you and your pet to me at this hour?"  
  
Allen returned her azure gaze with his own, his long blond hair cascading to the shoulders of his blue formal wear. A sheathed sword was clipped to his belt, an ever-present reminder to all of his fighting prowess and position among the Asturian Knights. With a soft, yet strong voice he answered his love's inquiry. "I heard stories circulating that dealt with rather depressing matters, and thought that you might have as well. I am merely here to see if these stories have had a negative effect on your mood, milady."  
  
Her smile stayed firmly in place. "Allen, you're so sweet. I'm flattered by your concern, but I must say that it is out of place."  
  
He inclined his head in acknowledgment. "Indeed, but it has not hurt anything."  
  
"Would you like to come up?" she asked from above. "I could have Eries go let you in through the back door."  
  
His handsome face was graced with a slight smirk. "I don't believe your father would much appreciate my presence in your bedchambers. You are, after all, betrothed to the Duke of Freid."  
  
"Do not remind me." she replied with a twinge of sadness. "However, I must point out that I am not yet married."  
  
Schezar raised a blond eyebrow in interest. "Perhaps later, Marlene. I have something else I must discuss with you."  
  
"What, love?" she inquired, leaning over the veranda railing.   
  
"I have heard that your father has decreed that the person who slays the Sky Dragon will become a Caeli Knight. Is this true?"  
  
"Not that I know of." She answered, somewhat perturbed that her par amour had brought up the creature again. "You aren't thinking of trying to slay the beast?" she added with concern.  
  
"I might be willing." Allen replied.  
  
"But why?" she asked, her voice pleading. "Why risk your life for a promotion?"  
  
"Marlene...as a Knight Caeli I would have more influence in the court. Perhaps, if I can accomplish this, your father might understand our love."  
  
Marlene shook her head in dismay. "But...Allen...what if you fail? What if the dragon...."  
  
"Kills me?" He finished for her. "I don't think that will happen. Besides, death would be preferable to living without you."  
  
She didn't know whether to be mortified or complimented by this. A cold revulsion spread through her at the thought of losing her beloved knight. "Allen...please reconsider."  
  
He shook his head, golden locks reflecting the pale moonlight. "Marlene...I need you to stand by me in this...to help me. I have heard that Meiden Fassa has a guymelef that could be a match for the dragon with the right pilot, and I believe that I am that pilot. However, I am not in a position to jockey for favor in his decision. Could you please direct him to me?"  
  
The revulsion hardened into fear. "No...Allen...I can't do that!"  
  
"Marlene...please!" Allen's blue eyes were full of determination. "I can't do this without your help. Please, just mention it to him."  
  
"Allen..." she trailed off as she met his gaze. The blue orbs, two of fear and two of determination were locked together across the distance, silently conflicting between the young lovers. Finally, one gave. "Alright...I'll do as you ask, Allen."  
  
"Thank you, Marlene." The knight's expression softened. "I should go now."  
  
As he turned to leave, she shouted after him. "Allen...wait..."  
  
He turned to gaze at her once more. "What is it, Marlene?"  
  
"If you do this, if you fight the dragon and lose...I'll never see you again." She almost cried.  
  
His eyes held a mix of compassion and wisdom. "I won't die Marlene, I promise."  
  
"That's not good enough!" She stated.  
  
"What would be enough Marlene?" The knight asked.  
  
"Stay with me. For tonight. Just one night before I am sent to Freid."   
  
Allen was taken aback by his love's forwardness. "Marlene...that would violate my code of ethics...to be with you before we are married..."  
  
Tears flowed down her cheeks as she heard his words. "Which is more important to you, Allen Schezar? You code of ethics, or your love for me?"  
  
Allen considered this for a moment. The two most important things in his life were in opposition in this, and it was not an easy choice. On one hand was the way he wanted to lead his life, and on the other was the woman he wanted to spend that life with. Both were equally important weren't they? Was it worth it to sacrifice one to keep the other? Finally, he reached his decision. "Have Eries meet me at the back door."  
  
Her heart jumped at his reply. Allen had chosen her over his code. She had not expected this from the noble knight, but now, as she watched him make his way to the back of the palace, she realized that despite his noble front, Allen Crusade Schezar was just a mortal man.  
  
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So, what do you think? Is this a good start for an ongoing series? Please review! I need to know if people are interested in this series before I bother to continue it! 


	2. The Slaying: Part 2

Meiden Fassa's office was one of the more interesting rooms in the palace. Unlike most of the other rooms, the office was decorated in subdued, rich tones of dark woods and navy blue fabrics. The Western side of the room was graced with no less than three bay windows, through which the afternoon sunlight illuminated the otherwise gloomy room. Bits of dust floated merrily in the air, illuminated by the shafts of golden light. Many visitors to this room often complained that the accumulated dust of the room was an irritation to their sinuses, but Meiden was adamantly against anyone cleaning his sanctum. He always defended his position by saying that he feared that "some ignorant servant might discard of some priceless item mistaking it for common garbage."  
Every bit of the walls not taken up by a window or door was lined with a series of shelves and racks which housed his library. Hundreds, if not thousands of leather-bound volumes and ancient scrolls occupied every possible space, some of them so old that they outdated the kingdom of Asturia itself. Meiden prided himself at having one of the greatest libraries on Gaea, his only rival for the title being his own son, Dryden.   
In addition to the manuscripts, he also had a large accumulation of maps. An old, yellowed globe of Gaea sat on the right hand corner of his desk, serving as a paperweight for a stack of out of date maps and charts. On the left corner, another pile, this one of more accurate, modern maps, was being held down by a pile of small, burlap bags containing the shining gold pieces which he kept nearby at all times. Though Meiden was rich, his assets were tied up in investments of his mercantile business, and thus he had only a relatively small amount of gold in his possession, making it all the more precious to him.  
In fact, Meiden loved money. Not love in the sense of a companion, but as in the goal of his existence. Born to a long line of merchants that could trace its lineage back to before Gaea was created, he was literally born to make money. And that he had. As the head of the most powerful trade organization on Gaea, and the richest private citizen in Asturia, he had attained a position in the nobility. That prestige had earned him the position of the King's most trusted advisor. So great was his influence that King Aston had agreed to betroth his youngest daughter Millerna to Dryden. Thus, Meiden's son would become the next King of Asturia. That fact gave him almost as much pride for his son as he had for his own accomplishments.  
At that moment in time, Meiden sat in a dark red, leather chair behind his desk. A crystalline goblet filled with a fine vinor in his left hand. He sipped it periodically, enjoying the comforting sweetness of the liquor. He ran his right hand through his thick black beard, considering his options for the day's activities. He gazed out of the nearest of the windows, to see the white-washed surface of the palace walls in the distance. The warm sunlight felt pleasant against his dark, weathered skin, and he elected to simply sit back in his chair and laze the day away.  
As he did so, there was a sharp, precise rap on the office door. "Come" Meiden called out, sitting up straight, putting the glass of vinor into a convenient, open drawer, and grabbed one of the maps from his desk in what seemed to be one fluid motion. When his aide opened the massive red wooden door, he saw what he believed to be his master hard at work planning his next financial endeavor. Meiden, after all, had a reputation as a tireless, economic master to uphold.  
Looking up from the map as if he had been interrupted from his study, he asked curtly: "What?"  
"Someone here to see you milord." the aide, a rat-man informed him. "A knight, I believe. He says that he is here to apply for a guymelef piloting position."  
"What guymelef piloting position?" Meiden thought aloud, having already forgotten the suggestion he had made yesterday.  
"He mentioned something about slaying a Sky Dragon, master." The rat-man provided.  
Realization dawned on him like the morning sun on a desert. "Ah...yes. Now I remember. Send him in, would you?"  
"Yes, milord." The aide inclined his head and retreated back into the antechamber.  
Moments later, the door swung open once more, this time admitting a muscular fellow, with coal black hair, clad in informal garb that marked him as a common knight. Although he did not look particularly dashing or heroic, he seemed to have a capable aura. "Lord Meiden?" The knight inquired hesitantly, as if in doubt of his own presence.  
"Yes. And who might you be?" The merchant answered with what he assumed was an appropriately modulated tone considering the relatively low status of his audience.  
"Gaddes, sir." The soldier stated. "I've come to ask about that position I heard about, the guymelef piloting one? I heard that you needed a pilot to go kill that Sky Dragon."  
"Where did you hear of this?" Meiden asked, curious as to how word had filtered down to such a low-level knight in such a short time.  
Gaddes cleared his throat and straightened his vest self-consciously before replying. "I...uh...heard it from a messenger I met at the Garusan restaurant."  
Meiden contained his instinct to bristle at the statement. Messengers were never to divulge information to others outside the Court, and doing so was a crime punishable by demotion. "Who was this messenger, then?"  
"Maketto...yeah I'm pretty sure that's what he said his name was." The soldier's reply came in a hesitant voice. "I haven't done anything wrong, have I?"  
"Oh, no, no." Meiden reassured him. "It's simply that the job was merely a suggestion I made to the King. You see, King Aston has yet to approve that course of action. I'm afraid that the messenger you speak of was premature in his informing you."  
"Oh." Gaddes said simply, not sure how to take the news. "Well...I guess that's that. I suppose I should go now."  
Meiden watched thoughtfully as the young knight turned to leave, and was slightly empathetic. "Wait..."  
Gaddes turned to face him with a confused look.   
"Gaddes, isn't it?" Meiden asked, having almost forgotten the name.  
He nodded.  
"I apologize for the inconvenience, I had no idea that word had spread about the Sky Dragon's attack, let alone my plans for dealing with it. I would like to make it up to you."  
"How's that?" Gaddes inquired, his coal-black brows furrowed in confusion.  
"Perhaps the position could still be open. If you're still interested, that is..."  
"Yes sir!" The knight's expression brightened slightly.  
Meiden chuckled. "You see, I have several guymelefs, but as you know, no one to pilot them. The one that I was thinking of employing to destroy the Dragon is in the Eastern Sun warehouse on the far side of the city. It's a fine machine, but I'm afraid that it sustained some damage in a battle prior to my purchase of it." He leaned forward conspiratorially. "If you were to repair it for me...you know, bang out some dents, test it out, and whatnot, I might be able to convince King Aston to follow through with my idea. If so, then you would already have guymelef ready, and would be the first in line for the position. Also, in the event of King Aston's refusal, I will compensate you for your effort with a payment of 300 ----------."  
"Three hundred?" Gaddes' eye's enlarged.   
Meiden smiled wider, knowing full well that the young man was considering the implications of a full month's salary being offered to him for a simple repair job. "I take it you are satisfied with that offer?"  
"Yes, milord!" Gaddes agreed readily.  
"Excellent. Report to the Eastern Sun warehouse tomorrow morning then." Meiden watched the young man leave with a pleased grin. Not many could have come up with such an ingenious win-win solution to a problem on the spot, and he was quite proud of himself. Reaching into the drawer, he picked up the goblet of vinor he had deftly hidden there and took a sip. Marvelous he thought of both himself and the liquor. However, what he failed to realize was the even more marvelous thing: that he had just given an eighteen-year-old young man the means to either gain tremendous prestige, or a horrible death.  
  
* * *  
  
Marlene stood before a full-length mirror in her room, gazing at her own reflected image. She was wearing a new dress, an elegant one of pink and white with a low-cut neck, ruffles at the shoulders, and at the hem of the dress, which just barely reached the ground. Lace adorned the skirt and the neckline, a soft white only slightly more ivory than her skin. A necklace hung around her neck, a large amethyst at the vertex of a pearl parabola. Elbow-length gloves of the same white lace as the dress served as a background to bracelets of the same pearls and amethysts. Taken together, it was a beautiful ensemble that complemented her light complexion and soft, lavender-blue eyes.   
Although she was gazing directly at the mirror, her own appearance was the last thing on her mind. Ever since the night before, her mind had been a whirl. Thoughts of her lover flooded her mind like a storm, each memory and idea like another rush of water bursting forth to push away all other thoughts. That night, she and Allen had done something that she had always thought that she wanted, something she had always known was to happen between them, but now she felt differently.   
It had been wrong, she knew. It violated everything that Allen's code dictated, and defied the honor of the Aston family. Worse yet, she realized that they had done what they did for the wrong reasons. She had been afraid of never having the chance to experience Allen, afraid of what they might never be able to do if he were to die in this mission of his. Now, she realized that it could have been a more tragic mistake not to wait.  
At the same time, that fear was still there. The fear of losing him; the fear that they would never be together again; the fear that Allen would merely fail, leaving her with no option but to marry the Duke of Fried; all of these fears welled up inside of her, and combined into a sickening feeling. She felt that her fear was a Sky Dragon of its own, a formidable beast that terrorized the countryside of her soul.   
She let out her fear in a long, shaky sigh, but in doing so, it allowed another emotion, doubt to creep up on her. Why Allen? She asked mentally. Why do you have to jeopardize everything we have on such a stupid venture? Why did you ask me to speak to Meiden for you? Why did you have to involve me in this at all? The answers she sought were not forthcoming.  
As she continued her introspection, she heard the faraway sound of her chamber's door opening. "Marlene?" A questioning voice asked from the door.  
She turned away from the mirror to look upon her little sister, Eries, middle of the three Asturian Princesses, also dressed in a formal gown. "What is it Eries?"  
"I was just looking in on you." The younger princess replied. "You've been in here for several hours. Is there something wrong with the dress?"  
"No...no." Marlene shook her head, clearing her thoughts. "The dress is fine, Eries."  
"Then is it that boy I let in for you last night?" Eries asked, her intuition into the affairs of her older sibling surprisingly accurate.  
"I...yes." The older princess conceded.  
"What's wrong exactly, Marlene? You can tell me." Eries insisted, entering the room and closing the door for privacy's sake. "I won't tell anyone."  
The elder princess considered her sister for a moment. "Eries...that boy...his name is Allen Schezar, he's a knight in the military. I...we...are lovers."  
Eries' eyes widened. "I was afraid of that...Marlene, how could you? You are betrothed to the Duke!"  
"I know! I know." Marlene professed, closing her eyes and shaking her head in exasperation as she made her way over to her white-lacquered vanity. She sat down huffily on the seat where she had been last night, just as Natal had arrived on the veranda. "It was stupid of me to do that...but...I..."  
"Go on..." Eries prodded, taking a seat quietly on the edge of the bed.  
"You remember the suggestion Meiden made to father about dealing with that Sky Dragon?" Marlene asked, and seeing her sister's affirming nod, continued. "Allen...he wants to slay the beast himself. He hopes that if he were to become a Knight Caeli that father might reconsider my betrothal to the Duke and allow us to marry. I...I was afraid that he might die before we could be together, so..."  
"You...last night..." Eries finished the thought, effectively, if not completely.  
"Yes!" Marlene cried, ashamed at having revealed it to her sister already.  
"Oh...Marlene..." Eries stood and walked over to her. She embraced her sister, hoping that the contact might console her.   
"Why...?" Marlene sobbed, tears rolling down her pale cheeks like a woodland stream, down a winding path before emptying into the sea-green of Eries' dress' shoulder. "Why did I do it? Why...?"  
  
* * *  
Eries tried to hold back her emotions. She couldn't give in and cry for her sister's lost innocence...she had to be strong and supportive...she had to deny her feelings to help Marlene deal with hers. Her empathic sadness, and her shame for her sister's acts were hard to keep down, forming a tight knot in her throat that blocked any comforting words she might have offered. Finally, the younger sister managed to speak. "Marlene...you can't afford to fall apart now. Everyone will be waiting down in the dining room..." No sooner had she spoken than she regretted having said it. It was cold and callous to say such a thing.   
Before she could apologize, Marlene replied, reigning in her sobs slowly. "Yes...yes...you're right Eries...I have to compose myself...I have to put up a strong front, to be the princess that I am..."  
The younger princess felt almost sick as she heard this. How can she say that? She thought miserably. How can she be so hard on herself after what's happened? She's brought dishonor to the Aston family by having an affair...how can she simply shrug off such a thing? Oh, Jichia, please take pity on her! Eries' was beside herself, torn between the strict ethics and standards which she held for her family and the sympathy and goodwill toward her sister, she didn't know what to think or feel. Through her own emotional turmoil, she spoke once more in the cold, dispassionate tone. "You had best wash your face, Marlene...we can't have you seen with streaks across your pretty face..."  
Marlene nodded, gently pushing Eries back and walking to the small bathroom adjacent to the bedroom. As Eries sat numbly on the floor next to the vacant stool, she heard the splashing of water as Marlene washed away her tears. Moments later, she emerged once more, her face somewhat flushed, but well on its way to normalcy. She breathed deeply, steadying her nerves. "Thank you, sister." She said in a readily strengthening voice. "I needed that."  
"You are welcome." Eries replied, utterly appalled that she had been so cold-hearted to her sister, and ashamed that she had seen it as a favor.  
"Oh, Eries!" Marlene exclaimed. "I cried all over your dress!"  
Eries looked down at the wet stain on her shoulder, an area of darkness on the sea-green fabric that stood out like a sore thumb. "It is okay, Marlene. I shall just change, that's all."  
"Eries..." Marlene was now calmed as she gazed with those lavender-blue eyes at her. "Thank you for being there for me...for pointing me in the right direction." She embraced her gently. "I couldn't ask for a better sister..."  
Eries felt that sick feeling increase by a hundred fold. No, Marlene, don't thank me! All I've done is get you to put aside the problem, I haven't helped you deal with anything at all! Don't thank me! She thought, but it came out as: "Nor could I..."  
Marlene broke her hold and made for the door. "I suppose I should head down to the dining room."  
"Go on," the younger princess replied. "I'll catch up in a minute."  
Marlene exited the room, closing the door lightly behind her, leaving Eries to consider the mess that she had just made even worse.  
  
* * *  
  
  



End file.
